


Lions Sit in Solemn Lines

by Goldstone_Wolf



Series: I Must Be Good For Something [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Basically Everyone But Liam and Mason and Corey are Jerks to Theo, Blood, Coffee, Coffee Used as a Weapon, Hospitals, Hurt No Comfort, Into the Fray, Major Character Injury, Near Death Experiences, Shameless Theo Raeken Whump, The McCall Pack Gets Called on Their Crap, Whump, for now I guess this one is Angst, lots and lots of blood, no beta we die like wizards, references to other movies, surgery but not described, the category is to be determined i guess, the metal monster is mine, treat restaurant workers nicely or i will fight you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23637625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldstone_Wolf/pseuds/Goldstone_Wolf
Summary: Theo is forced to fight alone after Malia takes things a step too far and chases him from a pack meeting. Later, Melissa, Noah, and David are given an up-front and personal view into a part of Theo’s life he wouldn’t want them to know.
Relationships: None for this Fic but the Series has them
Series: I Must Be Good For Something [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701694
Comments: 8
Kudos: 86





	Lions Sit in Solemn Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Series and chapter titles from Barns Courtney’s song “Sinners”. TWs in tags. If you cannot tell, I am not a huge fan of Malia or Stiles.

“Yeah, go on and run! Get out of here!”

Malia’s shouts of abuse followed him down the road as he sprinted to the park. Jumping in his truck, he glanced in the rearview mirror. The jagged slash across his cheek stung as much as his eyes, and he saw Malia standing on the McCalls’ lawn. Pulling a (possibly illegal) K-turn, he drove to the main road and didn’t stop driving until he was at the Preserve. Then, he sped until he was at Tara’s bridge, tires screeching in the leaf mould and mud as he skidded to a stop. For a few moments, he simply stared ahead at the sunlit trees, breaths far too shallow in his throat.

Which was when the tears came.

Holding onto the steering wheel with bloodless knuckles and shaking arms, he let himself for once. He never should have gone to the meeting. It was a mistake, he had known that, but Alec and Liam had pulled the puppy-dog eyes and pestered him over three different school weeks until he finally agreed. Even as he drove there, he had known it was a mistake.

_He_ was a mistake.

Stiles and Malia were the ones who made it obvious. Like he missed all the comments by them. Saying he belonged in the ground, that they should put him back. Stiles had teasingly asked Liam where to find the sword. Malia had threatened to call Kira. They were trying to get a rise out of him, but he’d refused to respond. This only escalated the situation, sadly, and Theo had no one to defend him. The Pack had managed to coerce Liam into going with Derek to grab food. Of course, even when Malia threatened him with a knife, he wouldn’t fight back.

He thought he had just started to earn their trust.

Letting out a sound somewhere between a wail and a roar, he squeezed his eyes shut. When he finally felt tired enough, he pulled his exhausted body into the backseat. Despite it being midday, he curled up under the blankets.

He woke up when something rolled his truck.

~

_It had been two and a half months since the war had ended._

_He spent another morning waking up before dawn, wishing he hadn’t opened his eyes at all. Staring at the top of his truck, he took a breath._ Come on, Theo. You get dressed, and you can make it through today.

Maybe you’ll see Liam.

_It was an empty promise. School had gotten out, and in the several months he’d had his job, Liam had never once shown up to the café during his shifts. He didn’t know why he hoped—the only times someone from the Pack had shown up, he’d been rudely dismissed or talked down about while he was making their drinks. They didn’t care that he could hear them—they_ knew _he could hear them. That’s why they were saying it._

_As he puled himself from his pathetic excuse for a bed—the backseat of his truck with a few ratty blankets he’d found behind the Goodwill—he took a breath. The food he’d grabbed earlier was gone. He’d have to buy something to eat…in the store where the owners hated him and the cashiers forced him to overpay because he was “a killer”. Sure, it was illegal, but they did it anyways._

_And to top it all off, Margot had stole his tips yesterday (all two_ cents _of it), and he’d barely had enough to pay for gas._

_As he stripped and changed, he ran a hand over his ribs._ I can go a day or two, no big deal. Just until my next paycheck hits.

_At least the hunters had died down lately._

~

As glass crunched and metal shrieked, he jumped awake and braced himself.

Claws had shattered his windshield and the truck jolted as it landed right side up. Then, a whirring noise screeched by his ear and fangs-not-fangs lodged in his shoulder. As he was ripped from the car and thrown, he dimly realised his attacker was a metal monster.

Bullets tore through the air before he hit the ground.

Ears ringing, he managed to dodge the first few before one lodged in his left thigh. Sinking to the ground, he glared up at the hunters when the guns suspiciously stopped blazing. “What do you want?” He spat, feeling something hot and wet spilling down his side. Touching his ribs, he saw his fingers leave red. His reflexes weren’t what they were—he hadn’t eaten in days. Panting, he looked at the beast.

It was a metal monster.

Though vaguely dog-like, it looked as though the hunters had taken the robot AXL from the movie, crossed it with a velociraptor and a shark, then put it on steroids. Six rotating rows of teeth sat in its mouth, and jagged spikes traced the outer edges of its limbs and its spine. Crowning each metal paw were four small, hooked laws and one like a ridged ice pick. If Frankenstein had made a dog with Tesla, this would be the result.

The hunter closest to it patted the monster’s side. He had to be about six feet, so the beast was an easy ten. “Theo Raeken, meet the Automated Recon Combat Honing Echelon Ravager. Aka the ARCHER. She’s specifically made to hunt and take down monsters like you.”

ARCHER stepped towards Theo, glowing white eyes tracking his every move. “Is that science experiment meant to be your replacement>”

The hunter laughed dryly. “ARCHER,” the beast looked to him, “kill order Jaeger Five-One-Six.”

ARCHER’s eyes burned a sickly shade of orange and it lunged. For a moment, Theo could only stare. Then six rows of metal teeth latched into his left shoulder and he was screaming as the world pulsed red.

Everything blurred together as the animal in him fought the one attacking. Dimly, he heard the bullets ricocheting off ARCHER, felt them as they hit his back. As he tore at ARCHER and sent the hunters flying, however, he barely noticed. The reek of blood hung heavy and metallic in the air as the dying sunlight burned his eyes. He wrapped his claws in the oil-slick, jagged plates of ARCHER’s neck. Fractured and overheated metal pierced his wrist and forearm. It burned, but in his haze he found wires and ripped.

ARCHER exploded.

When he opened his eyes, ears ringing, he had been thrown against a tree. Moving was impossible, and he saw ARCHER’s owner stalk up. Dimly, a voice asked, “What should we do with him?”

“We’ll leave him. He’s not going to make it.” A second voice added. The man in front of him growled.

“Agreed. But first,” raising the barrel of his gun, he aimed for Theo as sound returned and blood trickled down the chimera’s chin and neck, “let’s send him off with a bang.”

Three hunters.

Thirty-nine shots.

Not a single miss.

As they left, Theo rasped in breaths, took account of his limbs. Somehow, he’d made it. Wouldn’t for long, not in his wounded state. He needed his phone…needed to call Stiles’ dad…

His phone was thirty yards away in his truck.

Settling for survival rather than keeping his pride, he forced his broken body to crawl across the bloodied mud and leaves caking the earth. Coughing, ribs grinding together, he hauled himself up by the edge of the open driver’s side door, then in by the seat. Lungs ablaze, he lifted the phone, in a death-grip tango with unconsciousness, and dialled with broken fingers.

“911, how can I help you?” Coughing raggedly, he stared at his hand as red dripped from his muddied, scraped palm. “Hello?”

“I—I need Sheriff Stilinski.” He forced out, voice rough. “Hunters…in the Preserve…” Hacking, he gasped for air, hearing the person on the other side shift. “They had…a weapon…exploded…”

“Alright, sir, I’ll patch you in.” Although they couldn’t see him, Theo nodded. Glass cut into his back as he pulled the door shut with strength he probably couldn’t afford to lose. Slumping into the seat, he focused on a bluebird with feathers the colour of Liam’s eyes. It was dancing along some twigs, head tilting from side to side as it chirruped.

“Hello? What happened?” The Sheriff’s voice pulled him from his daze, albeit barely.

“Hunters by Tara’s bridge.” Another wet and red coughing fit took him, and he cracked his eyes open with what fading strength remained. “They’ll…they’ll be getting away.”

“Theo? Son, are you hurt?” Everything was fading out. The bluebird fluttered over to land on Theo’s hood. “Theo, just hold on, someone’ll come and get you. I’ll come and get you. Just hold on, okay?”

The bluebird pecked at his window wipers as darkness folded over his vision.

~

_“Come_ on _, Raken! Get a move on!” Margot screamed from the front of the store as he climbed out of his truck. She wasn’t cruel to anyone else—just him. Bouncing on her heels and shivering in a knee-length gingham dress, she snapped, “I don’t get why the managers don’t fire you. You don’t_ do _anything.”_

Except everything you _don’t_ want to. _Finally managing to unlock the door, he held it open for the Coworker from the Black Lagoon. Huffing, she stormed in, and he started setting up for the day. It was six a.m., and he had a lunch break at twelve. Sure, he’d be working until eight, and it was a Friday so they’d be busy, but he was—he’d be fine._

_“Come on, Theo, just two more days.” He murmured to himself. Pressing a hand to his growling stomach, he shut out the idea of eating any of the café food. If he did_ that _, Margot would report him. Outside, two car doors slammed, and he saw two BHPD officers walk up. Tanielu was nice—Perry could be, once he had his coffee._

_“Morning, Theo!” Tanielu greeted as she sat down at the bar. Perry slumped down beside her and glared at him._

_“Officer Tanielu, Officer Perry. What’ll it be today?” For a brief second, Tanielu’s eyes flickered from the menu he handed her to his wrists and then back. The smile on his face half-faltered before he fixed it._

_“My usual.” Perry grumbled, not even bothering to look at the menu. He’d put his head in his arms on the counter. For someone who was absolutely_ not _a morning person, he was being civil today. Normally, he just grunted and pointed. Still, he could always be worse (as many of his coworkers proved)._

_As Theo scribbled the coffee order down, he noticed Tanielu waiting until he was done, “And you?”_

_“Number four with orange juice and a side of hash browns, please. Oh, and some trail mix for_ this _grouch.” As she elbowed Perry, he jolted awake with a snort._

_“Alright. I’ll have that right out for you.”_

~

Melissa McCall thought that the war was meant to be over.

That meant Scott and his friends were safe. That meant Chris was going to help the BHPD keep it that way. That meant the McCall Pack could be somewhat normal.

That did not mean that Noah Stilinski would burst into the W-Ward ER with a bloodied Theo Raeken barely clinging to life in his arms at four in the afternoon.

“What happened?” She demanded, rushing over. When she touched Theo’s head where blood and sweat had plastered his hair to his skin, he stirred. Although he let out a groan, he didn’t open his eyes. “Ssh, Theo, it’s okay. Noah?”

“Hunters. They had some mechanical monster with them. It exploded.” Nodding, she motioned for a gurney and checked Theo’s breathing.

“He needs oxygen. Tell Dr Geyer to prep an OR, get Maia setting up the anaesthesia. Maybe the cardiopulmonary bypass, too.” As they set him on the gurney, Theo barely moved. His chest rattled with each breath, and blood trickled from his nose, ears, and blue-tinged lips. “Tell someone to get the X-ray rom ready. Once he’s stable, I want everything we can. We might need an MRI or a CT, too.”

They left Noah in the waiting room. Theo’s breathing didn’t ease up even with the oxygen, and Melissa kept glancing down at him as she tried to count his pulse. It was weak and thready, barely there at the best of pulses. When she noticed his eyes crack open, she smiled down at him as reassuringly as possible, “Hey, Theo. You’ll be okay. We got you.”

His eyes fluttered shut again.

It took a hundred and twenty-five seconds they may not have been able to afford to get him ready. By then, Maia was holding the anaesthetic mask to his face, ventilator tube in hand as she waited for the effects to kick in. Under his shirt (which couldn’t be salvaged even if they had the best seamstress in the world), Theo’s chest and stomach were riddled with slashes, bullet holes, and burns. “How is he even alive?” Dr Geyer breathed, while Melissa focused on threading the tube down Theo’s throat. The EKG beside them was registering his heartbeat, as shaky and unsteady as it was.

As they cleared the blood away, the sickening feeling in her chest only grew. The wounds were bad enough on their own, but Theo’s ribs and even his sternum were unhealthily prominent. “He has wounds on his back, too. We need to be fast.” She replied, keeping her voice calm and steady.

The W-Ward, also known as the “Were-Ward” was one specially designed for the McCall Pack and any other wounded supernaturals who came into Beacon Hills. The name was given because Liam, Scott, and Derek had been their top patients. Theo had never come in, and now Melissa wondered if there was another reason than him simply never being injured.

She wasn’t stupid. The chimera was malnourished, dehydrated, and underweight—she could tell just by looking at him. When he came to Pack meetings, which wasn’t often, he’d stayed in the background and ate only enough to keep Liam off his back. She knew the young man was homeless and slept in his truck—Noah and Jordan had stopped by many a time to ask her about whether or not he’d come in. Their paths never crossed, and she barely knew where he was. She’d tried ( _but not hard enough, apparently)._

Abruptly, Theo’s heart rate spiked. “Maia, turn the anaesthesia up. He’s waking up.” She warned, touching Theo’s shoulder. A low whimper fought past the tube in the young man’s mouth, and he shifted like he was fighting to breathe. The EKG continued to speed up. “Theo, it’s okay. Ssh, you’re okay. We’re fixing you up. Can you hear me?”

They were so close to stabilizing him—he just needed to hold on.

Maia kept increasing the anaesthetics, slowly enough so as not to overwhelm his body but quickly enough to put him back under. “Go to the level we used on Corey last time he was here. It might help.” Dr Geyer whispered, and Maia nodded.

Before they could get there, Theo crashed.

~

_“Stupid mutt!”_

_Liam winced at the harsh insult as he and the rest of the McCall Pack sat around a booth table. It was the café Theo worked at—they’d stopped by for lunch. Part of Liam had hoped he would be working that day. The curly-haired blonde chick at the counter, Brooklyn, said he was off on a break, though._

_It was the first time the whole Pack was in Beacon Hills since the war ended, and they were there for the whole summer. Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Mason, Corey, Malia, and even Kira and_ Derek _, who always seemed to be in some sort of trouble lately. Alec was tagging along._

_As Liam glanced around, he saw one of the older men in town standing above one of the waiters. A dark brown liquid stained the front of his white shirt—coffee, from the smell. Meanwhile, the waiter was trying to clear the mess. “I—I’m sorry, sir—”  
“You’d better be, _mutt. _Do you know who I am?” Most of the people in the diner stayed quiet, including those at the Pack Table. Liam hoped it was because the others were trying to figure out whether or not they should step in._

_“I’m sorry, sir, I can get you a new one.” The waiter choked out. Liam realised what was happening a second before it did. The older man had reached for another mug, sitting on the table by him, and held it up._

_Then he dumped it on the waiter._

_“Okay, that’s enough.” Standing up, Liam walked over and placed himself between the waiter and the older man. “Sir, that was unnecessary. He said he would get you a new drink.”_

_“He ruined my shirt. I should get him fired for this, maybe even arrested.” The man snapped, and Liam turned to the waiter to help him pick up. Coffee still dripped from the poor man’s bangs, and Liam caught a glimpse of several pale, uniform scars along the underside of his wrists._ Poor guy…can’t imagine what battles he’s facing on top of this.

_“Come on, bud, let’s get you to the bathroom.” As soon as they had the ceramic shards safely in the trash can, Liam guided the worker into the men’s bathroom. By the time he had gotten some wet paper towels, the man was shaking violently. The poor excuse for his nametag—literally some lined paper on a safety pin—was soaked through like his clothes, the pencilled name smudged beyond recognition. “Hey, close your eyes, it’s okay.”_

_“Th-thank you.” The person’s voice was rough and quiet, and Liam tried to be as delicate as possible as he wiped away the remaining coffee. Every so often, the man would flinch away from the touch, a movement that twisted something in Liam’s chest. Adding to the feeling was the various slits visible not only on the worker’s wrists, but on his collarbones, too. “I’m—I’m sorry, you shouldn’t be—you shouldn’t be doing this.”_

_“Hey, don’t blame yourself. Did any get in your eyes? Oh, I’m Liam by the way.” As he held onto the man’s jaw, he squinted at his face, trying to see if he’d missed any coffee._

_“I—I know.” When he urged, meaning to check for any further injuries, the man opened his eyes. They seemed fine—until Liam took in the colour._

_“Oh my gosh—_ Theo?”

~

Liam was picked up from his house by the cops.

Stiles and Malia had been shoved in the backseat, while Liam was semi-forced into shotgun beside Noah Stilinski. “Is everything alright, sir?” He asked, keeping his voice low.

“It’s about Theo Raeken.”

“Did the stupid mutt finally off himself?” Malia snarled, and the sheriff pulled over and turned to her with fire in his gaze. Even though he was a human and not a werewolf, Liam found himself cringing away.

“Young lady, you’d better _pray_ he pulls through so he can decide whether or not to press charges. Otherwise, you _will_ go to court.”

“You can’t prove anything.” She sneered, settling back. “It’s not like I _did_ anything to begin—”

“Verbal harassment, physical harassment, verbal and physical abuse, assault, aggravated and armed assault, manslaughter, illegal imprisonment, murder, accomplice to murder…do I need to continue?” Apparently mollified, she sat back and stewed in the backseat. “We have verified footage of you threatening him at school and stabbing him in the hand with a scalpel in the bio classroom. And _you_ ,” he glared at his son, “have made an appearance on some _interesting_ footage. Some of the BHPD brought Theo in—remember _that_ day?”

Stiles paled, and for a long while they drove in silence. “Is Theo okay?” Liam finally asked.

“He was still in surgery last I checked. He’s…it’s bad, I won’t lie. When I left to come pick you up, he had just come back from crashing for the second time.” They parked in the lot, and Liam practically jumped from the car before it even stopped.

Sprinting inside, he found his dad. Dr Geyer was standing, hunched over several papers with his head down. When he saw him, Liam’s heart dropped. “Dad?”

David Geyer looked up. “Hey, Liam.” For a few moments, they stood a few paces apart before Liam hugged him. “Don’t worry, Theo’s alive. He’s in the ICU right now, and they won’t be letting visitors in.” Sobbing, Liam nodded into his dad’s shoulder. For now, Theo was alive.

All they could do was wait and see if he survived.

**Author's Note:**

> Find out more in the next instalment of the series, “Until The Morning Comes Around”.


End file.
